Sparkly Baby
by L.R.T
Summary: Being fraternal doesn't mean you aren't identical. One-shot.


Sparkly Baby

L.R.T.

* * *

><p>When Tinka placed Gunther in the doorway to her room, standing on her tippy-toes to reach her slightly-taller older brother's eyes and place her hands over them, she was about ready to burst with excitement.<p>

They both had been given their own bedrooms, the idea having been that they could decorate it any way they wanted and make it as girly or as manly as they saw fit. The task of getting their rooms just the way they liked them had taken them almost four years. Hours were spent sitting back-to-back on the floor in the middle of their living room, fabric and accents of all kinds spread across the floor; but neither were allowed to look at the others work until it was completed.

An uncle thrice removed had made a comment back in the old country that Tinka and Gunther were too much alike - it was as though there were no twins at all, just one big, sparkly baby to tend to. Though they were young, they also refused to turn away from a challenge - or something they took as a challenge. It was there the idea was born to leave the other in the dark. The differences in their decorating palette would surely show that they were more than just a big blob of over-grown, sparkly baby.

Bouncing on her sequined tennis shoes, Tinka removed her hands from her brother's eyes and clasped them together in joy, as though she were seeing the room for the first time as well. "Ta-doodles!" she squealed.

The room's colors consisted of pink, yellow, orange, and neon green, all of which when put together was like a smack to the average human eye. Fuzzy pillows laid about and the lamp on her nightstand (yellow with orange knobs for the doors) had a faux-crystal stand with the shade covered in pink sequins. Each wall was a different color, the neon green one thankfully having a window in the middle to keep from being too blinding while on the pink one hung a goat skin and a map of the old country, the outlines of both traced on the wall with fluid lines of clear beads.

Running ahead of her brother, she jumped on her bed and hugged one of the fuzzy pillows tight. "Isn't it the happiest place on Earth, Gunther?" Turning, she frowned, placing her pillow next to her on the bed at the sight of his face. "What? You aren't bouncing. You should be bouncing. It is the happiest place on Earth!"

"No, no!" Gunther said to quickly reassure his little Tinkabell that her room was, in fact, one of the most beautiful things he'd ever laid his eyes on - that was the problem. "It's wonderful! I just...think we may have some explaining to do to Mama and Papa."

"Why? Do you think they will be offended by the beads and the goat?"

He waved his hand in dismissal. "They will only be upset they did not think of it themselves. Come," he said, taking her hand and pulling her toward his room. He sighed as he opened the door, upset that she was seeing it before it was completely ready but feeling it was necessary.

Tinka walked in slowly, looking around in disbelief. It was her room: an exact replica only with different colors. Gunther had chosen bright blue, dark blue, purple and orange. Everything was the same, down to the most obnoxious color being painted on the windowed wall (bright blue) to the goat skin, map and beading. Gunther's sequined lamp alternated gold and silver. "This...this cannot be right! We didn't talk to each other about our plans, we didn't look!"

He nodded, joining her and sitting down on his bed. "My fuzzy pillows come in three days."

Tinka joined him, resting her head on his shoulder. "We really _are_ a big, blobby, sparkly baby."

"I don't know..." Gunther said, looking around his room, "I think it's...good."

Looking up at him, Tinka didn't relent on her pout but asked nonetheless, "Good?"

He nodded again. "We are twins! If twins weren't alike in some ways, they wouldn't be twins. I do not like your television programs. You do not like my _wicked cool_ rapper music. We are not the same person, Tinkabell. We have the same taste. So what is wrong with that, then?"

She opened her mouth to object, to tell him everything that _was_ wrong with that but then closed it, not being able to think of anything.

Gunther smiled, draping his arm over her shoulder. "We can like the same things and not become a sparkly baby about it."

Tinka smiled back at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. "You are the best big brother! And it is not your rapper music that I do not like. It is you _doing it_ I do not like."

He laughed and shrugged his free shoulder. "It's not as though I would ever do that in front of the people and the world, though!"

"I still have to hear it..."

"I am getting so much better, though, Tinka! Listen!"

As he quickly got up to get his boom box, Tinka groaned, falling back onto the bed and prematurely sticking her fingers in her ears.

* * *

><p>Tinka waited patiently outside their apartment door, continuing to munch on the popcorn-concoction they'd made at the movies as Gunther searched his pants for his keys.<p>

"You know, Tinkabell...that advice you gave to the skinny annoying one sounded very familiar to my ears," he said, glancing up at her with a mischievous smile on his face.

Pausing mid-stuff, Tinka eyed her brother for a moment before replying with a mouthful of food, "Did it?"

"Where did you hear it?" He continued to tease her, opening up the door for her as she rushed in ahead of him and he idly strolled in after, closing the door, his arm long and graceful for added dramatic effect. "Was it Papa?"

Laughing nervously, she walked quickly into the kitchen to dispose of the now-empty bag, talking with her free hand all the way. "Papa...uncles...Mama...aunts, who is to say? There are so many sayings and advice. One can hardly keep them straight!"

Gunther followed, leaning against the counter as she washed her hands. He said nothing, just smiled and she furrowed her brow, glancing at him from the side. Finally, as she dried her hands, he breezed his way out of the kitchen and toward his bedroom, stopping briefly to look back and catch Tinka's eye. "It's good advice. That's all."

Tinka bit her lip, watching as he went into his bedroom but didn't close the door, tearing her paper towel to bits. After a few minutes she dropped the bits to the floor and followed Gunther but stopped in his doorway as he looked up from his bed. "It can't be that good. CeCe took it."

Gunther laughed, rolling over to put his back to her. "You are so stubborn. Like a tired, old donkey."

Her jaw dropped in outrage, eyes wide with anger. "Tired...old...I will show you tired and old!" she shrieked, charging the bed and landing on top of him, smacking him repeatedly in the sides and letting out curse words that not even Gunther knew his sweet baby sister knew - let alone would say!

"Stop! Stop! I give you the uncle!" he cried, trying to shield himself from her wrath with a fluffy purple pillow.

"Which uncle?" she demanded, still swatting though with less vigor now.

"I can't remember which ones we have left to trade!"

Crawling off him, still frowning and glaring, she sat down on the bed and crossed her arms. "Tired, old donkey..." she mumbled.

Gunther sat up, sitting next to her and resting back against the headboard of his bed, catching his breath. "You couldn't just admit it was me?"

Tinka shrugged, still bothered. "We were younger then. It is silly to remember it as often as I do."

"Why do you do that?"

She looked down at her lap, her voice becoming quieter, "We are changing. We are growing up. We are growing apart. Back then..." She let out a sigh, looking up at him. "Back then I was afraid of being the sparkly baby. Now sometimes I want it, Gunther."

Gunther huffed a bit, crossing his own arms. "You were the one that said we could not get married. You were the one that wanted a real date with a real boy."

Sitting up on her knees, Tinka looked at her brother, hurt. "Why would you throw such things at my head when I am trying to tell you important things about my feelings?"

"Because you were not very concerned with _my_ feelings!"

"I don't know how you can be so cruel! I don't know why I even want to be a sparkly baby with you!"

Tears in her eyes, Tinka turned away and started to get off the bed but a hand reached out - not grabbing her wrist or arm, even her shoulder - but her hand, gently. This made the youngest Hessenheffer burst into tears and turn back around, burying her face in her brother's chest, clutching the fabric for dear life.

Gunther had no idea that Tinka had been so upset - and was keeping it from him, too! He was a bit shocked, unsure what to do with the outburst from the strong little firecracker he knew as his sister. Tentatively, having no idea what would set her off again, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She didn't pull away, didn't move, but slowly stopped crying, settling for resting her head against his chest, her eyes closed. Thinking she had cried herself to sleep, Gunther kept his arms around her, scared now to let her go, and laid down with her in his bed.

She went along with him, head still resting on his chest as they laid there. Feeling sillier than ever, she kept her eyes shut and asked, "Gunther?"

He jumped a little when she spoke, looking down at her. "Tinka?"

"I am sorry that I hurt you. I would marry you if I could."

Gunther smiled a little, leaning down and kissing the top of her head. "I know you would. I am a big, jealous dummy. I do not like the changes, either, you know."

"Gunther?"

"Tinka?"

"Do you think we could do this sometimes? Become a blobby, sparkly baby? Just for a little bit?"

He wrapped his arms around her tighter, holding her closer as though he believed he actually _could_ make them become one if he tried hard enough. "Anytime. My bed is your bed, little sister."

Tinka smiled to herself. "And mine is yours, big brother. Fuzzy pillows and everything."

"And that is why, my Tinkabell..." he began.

"...we are..." she continued.

"...and always will be..." he reassured.

"_The Hessenheffers_!"


End file.
